Little White Lie
by TheSilencedSiren
Summary: When Azlyn takes her twin's place in the 99th Hunger Games, she figures that she can put on a happy face and act as her twin, for Allison. She doesn't even plan on winning-but there may be someone who understands what she's done...
1. Chapter 1

District 10 has always been underestimated. Always. I don't know why, but it always has. We're the nature district-with open land and animals. We are different. We aren't their slaves-not completely, not yet.

My sister Allison lays on the mattress immediately next to my mother. We're twins-nearly identical, with the only discernable difference being my ice blue eyes, empty and cold, against her chestnut brown eyes, warm and happy, just like my mother's, so unlike mine and my father's.

My father. The Avox.

My icy eyes stare directly into the dying coals-unable to look anywhere but here, away from the nightmares. My nut brown curls are messily pulled up with a French braid running along the front like a headband-a seemingly messy style, but my mother's hand work magic. Allison's hair is always braided into pigtails, making her look so much younger than her actual age of 15. And honestly, I'm fine with that. On reaping day, my mother does our hair exactly the same. Identical.

My mother is awake, but she does not move away from Allison. She knows that if Allison awakes alone, she will freak out. I'd probably do the same, but I wouldn't be the one to admit it.

I hear my mother's voice whisper out, "Azlyn, go finish getting ready. Allison will be up in a moment."

So I get up, albeit reluctantly. I dress myself in a dark blue dress, with a velvet belt in the same color-but it looks darker, because it's velvet. I wrap around my neck a simple silver chain, adorned with my father's wooden beads-my father loved to carve wood, and he would sing to us while he worked. But never again will he be able to sing.

Before they came to take him, because he knew they were coming, my father pulled me aside and told me, "Azlyn, you must be the voice of this family now."

I should've asked what it meant, but at this point, I couldn't see anything but red hot anger of a little girl who's father was taken away. Allison's the one that talks, the friendly one, the one that people would do things for. Me, I'm the sullen girl with nothing but sadness in her eyes, so different from the girl they love…

I snap back to reality as Allison tugs on my arm, dressed and ready. "Come on, Azlyn, it's time to go." For once, Allison's voice lacks its cheerful tone.

Slowly, quietly, I walk out the door after my sister.


	2. Chapter 2

The reaping is Hell, as it's always been.

I stand side by side with Allison. Allison and Azlyn. Azlyn and Allison. Incomplete without the other. We cannot live if the other dies.

The lady who reaps us-don't ask her name, I have no desire to learn it-walks up to stage. I expect her to say, "Ladies first!" as everyone before her has, but she doesn't. Instead, she reaches into the male bowl, to her left, to reap the male name for the 99th Hunger Games.

She clears her throat. Allison and I back towards our mother. I can't deny, when the female tribute is reaped, I want to be it, somewhere. To see my father, the Avox.

The male name is called. I grip onto Allison's hand. "Duncan Lawrence!" The name is called.

I have no clue who he is. Blonde haired, with just a touch of gold-from the sun. He looks to be my age, but I don't know.

The female tribute drawing seems to go forever. But the name comes out of the bowl…

I grip my sister harder.

"Allison Joschka!"

Allison…Allison…..ALLISON!

I can't let this happen. I see the fear and confusion light up on her face. I can't let her walk up there, see her weakness.

I shove my sister lightly and walk to the stage. My blue eyes stare at no one. No one can tell that it's not Allison.

If it was me going in, I would have no chance, being myself. I have spared Allison her dignity. I will act her part.

I will die playing her part. I will die today, not as Azlyn Michaela Joschka, but as Allison Carmen Joschka.

Today, with my blue eyes trained out on a point far away in District 10, I give my life to Allison. I will act her part.

And I will win with her part.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm taken to the room in the Justice Building. I stand, stiff and impatient, until my sister and mother enter.

"Azlyn, you retard!" Allison screams.

Allison's right. I should've let her go on stage-even if just to volunteer. Because people will quickly find out that it's not Allison dying.

"I wanted to save your pride, Allie," I whisper. I haven't called her Allie since before Dad was taken. "I couldn't let you die-I would've volunteered anyways. And with your personality and my strength-well, I'd just about say you have a chance," I give Allison a sort of half-hearted grin and drop my eyes back to my feet.

"Azlyn, you retard," Allison repeats, only this time in a whisper.

The next half hour or so is a fest of crying and hugging. It's all a flurry, and Allison cries, even though I'm the one sacrificing. But I don't cry. She has every right to mourn me, even if no one else does.

The one thing that's conspicuously absent is my mother. But I don't particularly care. I know that my sister is her favorite-even if she doesn't admit it. While both Allison and myself have my father's nut brown hair, my mother sees him in only me. In my piercing blue eyes.

And before I know it, the Peacekeepers are here, and Allison adopts her role. "Allison!" she screams-I can tell that she would much prefer to be screaming Azlyn. Then the door slams and I am alone.

For a few minutes, I just sit there, staring at a wall. Then there's a quiet knock and someone slips in.

It's a little girl-12 or 13, although she doesn't really look much older than 9 or 10. She holds in her hand something-a rustic gold, dark and worn but still maintaining it's gorgeous color.

The girl looks familiar-she has curly light blonde hair and sea green eyes. Her hair's pinned back and she has the town look to her. She's definitely not a farmer, like my father was. I loved the farm over wherever the hell we are now-it's not the farms, and it's a damn sight from town.

The girl is quiet, and she comes up to me. She slips something into the palm of my hand, and then quietly walks out of the room, silent steps. I stare at her, even after the door closes, her image embedded in my mind. She very well could've been in my position-and I would've never thought to visit her. But she's so familiar.

I look in my palm and there's a bracelet. A bracelet and a piece of paper, also worn and yellowing. But it could very well be intentional. I look at the bracelet-it's a chain, adorned with charms, things to remind me of home. Then I very slowly open the folded piece of paper and read the words, scrawled neatly on the page.

_I know who you are. Azlyn._


	4. Chapter 4

My m0uth drops open. I am stunned. I didn't see this coming-how could I have? I'm Allison's almost identical twin-it would take quite an observant person to notice the difference between our eyes.

_I know who you are. Azlyn. _

I quickly stuff the note in my pocket and put the bracelet daintily on my wrist just as the door creaks open, revealing the only two surviving District 10 victors, Melody Notter, victor of the 87th Hunger Games when she was 15, and James Kramer, victor of the 90th Hunger Games 9 years ago. No one from the infamous Quarter Quell-there aren't anymore Quarter Quells now. Whenever they feel like giving us extra punishment is when it comes.

It's those stupid District 12 victors. Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. I can't believe that they weren't killed, but they're alive-and I think I heard they have kids.

Melody is a fun person. She's 27 now, and hasn't succumbed to alcohol or morphling. Her dark honey blonde hair is pulled back loose and crimped, and her eyes are a lovely golden color, technically hazel but they look yellow like wheat. James, however, is a different story. He was 18 when he won, so he's 27 as well, but he won rebelling. They killed everyone-his sisters Lacey and Karma, his ma and pa, and his pretty little girlfriend Leila. He actually paid someone in District…2, I think, to put morphling into gum, so that he never has to face the pain. He was a looker when he won his games-dark hair that fell into his eyes, those homely brown eyes that are now foggy and absent. But now he looks like he's in his 30's.

These are the people who now have my life in there hands. I'm screwed.

The Duncan kid trails behind them and meets my eyes. His eyes are hazel, tinted with green. I should give him a reassuring smile, but I don't. That's not me-and it won't take long for my fellow tribute to figure out I'm not Allison.

I walk behind the mentors and Duncan, keeping my eyes ahead, trying to keep them steady and empty. Then, before I know it, we're at a table, eating dinner.

"So, Allison, what do you like to do?" Mel-as I kind of recall her asking us to call her-asks. "Allison?"

It takes me a minute to register she's talking to me. What does my twin like to do? It's amazing how unobservant I'm just now realizing I've become since my father's capture.

I open my mouth, and then close it, thinking hard. That's when any chance Duncan had of being my ally goes out the window.

"Who are you talking to? That's Azlyn, not Allison. Allison has brown eyes."

Well, crap.


End file.
